


Roped Into It

by Misty_Reeyus



Category: Tales of Berseria
Genre: F/M, Foreplay, Light Bondage, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 03:07:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10845210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misty_Reeyus/pseuds/Misty_Reeyus
Summary: “You are definitely,” Rokurou hisses through clenched teeth, “thetruedaemon in this relationship.”





	Roped Into It

**Author's Note:**

> prompt:  
>   
> because this is totally entirely my friend's fault and not because i'm tickle kink garbage or anything of course not ahahahahaaaaa

When some days ago, Eleanor first broached the subject of bondage in bed, she was red-faced and stammering, and Rokurou teased her perhaps a little too much before he eventually agreed that it sounded like fun. Now that she’s sitting atop him, though, with both of them stripped to their underwear and his wrists wrapped in leather cuffs that are tied to the bedposts with ropes, she _oozes_ confidence. Her smile is sly and there’s an edge to her gaze, an unspoken promise and threat. She has him right where she wants him, and she will take full advantage.

Rokurou mirrors her grin. He’s game.

He trusts her, and he appreciates the way Eleanor kisses him, her lips soft and languid against his—before she abruptly thumbs both his nipples. Rokurou parts from her with a gasp, and Eleanor relocates her mouth to scrape teeth over his pulse while she continues to pinch and tweak at the sensitive nubs. A groan tumbles from his lips and his whole body arches on instinct, but his arms catch against the ropes, and that’s as frustrating as it is thrilling.

Eleanor chuckles into his neck, apparently pleased that he’s already been inconvenienced, and as she trails kisses to his collarbone, so too do her fingers glide over his torso. In their descent from his pecs, though, they flick over one particular spot on his ribcage—and Rokurou can’t help the startled snort that escapes him.

He instantly freezes up, his breath catching in his throat as his eyes go wide. Eleanor too goes still for a while, but when she then pushes herself up to meet Rokurou’s eyes, she _smirks_.

Intentionally, pointedly, she dances her fingertips over his skin again.

Crap, she _knows_ his ribs are his absolute worst ticklish spot. She’s known ever since that one time she accidentally brushed her fingers over them when they were cuddling, and his gut reaction was to yelp-laugh and nearly elbow her in the stomach. Eleanor has managed to get at his weakpoint quite a few times since then, but her playful attacks never did last too long before his instinctual, uncontrollably violent responses always drove her off.

Now though, Eleanor has free access and she abuses it zealously, as Rokurou’s throat bubbles up with helpless laughter and his hands strain uselessly against the restraints. For once, he couldn’t lash out at her even if he wanted to, and when Eleanor does finally let up, green eyes shimmer wickedly down at him.

Rokurou pants for breath and narrows his eyes. “Did you tie me up just so you could tickle me?”

“Well, it’s not _why_ I tied you up,” Eleanor says, and she’s a bad liar so Rokurou believes her. “But so long as I have you like this anyway…”

Eleanor hovers her fingers over his ribs again, and Rokurou instinctively jerks, squawking before she’s ever even touched him. When she does touch him, she merely places her hands gently on his chest, fingers curled but motionless, not actually doing anything. Suspense builds and towers over Rokurou, until he’s caught in the crossroads between utterly dreading her attack and just wanting her to hurry up and get it overwith.

Gods, when did she become this _evil_?

“E-Eleanor, c’mon,” Rokurou hazards, frowning up at her. “You’re supposed to be the good one. Play nice.”

“Mmm, I rather enjoy having the advantage over you, though.” Eleanor hums, reaching both hands up to finger the taut ropes, then lightly trailing her nails over his skin. She descends from wrists, to elbows, to underarms, to ribs again, her touch slow and teasing as she lingers briefly over each sensitive spot. Not once does she _actually_ tickle, but the mere threat that she could do so at any moment is enough to drive Rokurou up the wall.

“You are definitely,” Rokurou hisses through clenched teeth, “the _true_ daemon in this relationship.”

Eleanor giggles. “And you’re cute when you can’t fight back.”

At last, though, she relents, both her hands hitting the mattress harmlessly as she leans down and kisses him. Rokurou relaxes after a few seconds, closing his eyes, humming into her lips contentedly—but that’s suddenly replaced by a startled yelp against her mouth when fingers roughly _dig into_ his ribs like claws.

“Oh, you suhuhuck!” Rokurou cries out, bucking his hips wildly, as if trying to dislodge her. But Eleanor remains firmly seated on his legs, keeping him pinned him down as she ruthlessly continues, her fingers scribbling all over his sides, armpits, neck, before ultimately zeroing in on his ribs again. Rokurou twists and turns as his protests dissolve into frenzied laughter, and she laughs along, clearly enjoying his torment—until his arms sharply wrench forward and this time, something _gives_.

Rokurou is so wracked with hysterics that he doesn’t register the exact moment the ropes snap. It’s only once Eleanor’s fingers abruptly cease that he calms down enough to follow her bewildered gaze to his wrists—still wrapped in the leather cuffs, but no longer bound to the bed. Rokurou takes a couple seconds to process that before he grins wide, and with his hands now free, it’s all too easy to grab her by the shoulders and roll until their positions are swapped, him atop her.

“Prolly should’ve tied up my legs, too,” he tells her cheekily, delighted at the turnabout.

“Don’t give me ideas,” Eleanor shoots back, but her confidence has waned, and her voice trembles slightly. Rokurou quickly sets about getting revenge, his hands darting for her hips, and light giggles soon come pouring out as she squirms beneath him.

“N-no, Rokurou, don’t!”

She’s not anywhere near desperate, though: her laughter muted, her struggling halfhearted. They both know Eleanor isn’t that ticklish on the whole; she only has one spot that _really_ gets her going, and she’s currently guarding it, her legs crossed tight. But that’s not enough to deter Rokurou as he forcibly slips both his hands down between them, squeezing and scratching his nails over her inner thighs until she shrieks aloud and clenches even harder down on his hands.

There it is.

Eleanor _convulses_ , her mirthful screams rapidly gaining in pitch and volume. She can’t stand being tickled right here and Rokurou knows it, has nearly gotten kicked in the head for it more than a few times. Thankfully, her flailing legs are currently pinned between his at the knees, so he’s free to ravage this spot as much as he pleases.

“I…I’m sorry!” Eleanor gasps out, tears springing to her eyes. “I’m sorry I’m sorry _I’m sorry_!”

“You know, I’m not sure I believe that,” Rokurou taunts, his hands spreading her just enough so that he can plant his mouth to the inside of her leg.

“I mean it! I mean it— _AHAA_!” She throws her head back when Rokurou blows a raspberry, and as his fingers start wriggling again, he can hear her breathing go ragged. Whining laughs become interspersed with gasping sobs, and Rokurou figures she’s about reached her limit by the time she yells, “Y-you win! Rokurou, I give, please, _please stop_!”

Rokurou blows one last raspberry, this time to her other leg, and he relishes how Eleanor spasms with her whole body and breathlessly begs him again before he finally shows mercy. His hands and lips pull back and all her muscles instantly go slack, her form sinking into the mattress beneath him. Her face is flushed as red as her hair, and her cheeks are wet with tears that he gently wipes away with his thumb, while she meets his amused gaze with a miffed pout.

“I clearly need to invest in stronger ropes.”

Rokurou barks out a laugh. “All the better to drive me crazy, huh?”

He thumbs the line of her panties, and Eleanor _jolts_ fearfully, but Rokurou has already wreaked his vengeance quite thoroughly, and he has no intentions of torturing her further. He just wants to check on something, and when sticky slickness greets his touch, he takes it as proof of his suspicions.

She’s already gone wet just from that.

Eleanor gently shoves him away before sitting up, grasping both his wrists and looking them over contemplatively. “At least the cuffs still seem good.” She slides around him, reaches into the nightstand drawer to grab something that gleams silver in her hand. “Here, put your hands together above your head.”

Rokurou eyes her suspiciously. Their little tickle bout was plenty fun and even kinda sexy in its own right, but it got them derailed from the business they’d originally agreed to, so he’s not sure how keen he is on letting her tie him up again.

“No more tickling, I promise,” Eleanor assures, pushing at his chest until he’s lying back down on the bed beneath her. “I know plenty of _other_ ways to make you squirm.”

...Fine by him.

Rokurou obliges her request and watches as she weaves a metal chain through the each of the cuff loops, then snaps the end links together. Once she’s done, he yanks at his hands experimentally and finds that they can’t separate from each other.

“That should do for now,” Eleanor says. “Try not to break this, too.”

Rokurou laughs. “No promises.”

Eleanor rolls her eyes but smiles in return, shimmying down his body and lowering her head until she’s biting at the hem of his bulging boxers.

“Now,” she murmurs, her breath washing warm and tantalizing over his skin, “where were we?”


End file.
